Divine Blood
by haikomori
Summary: "No one's really surprised it came to this. Especially not you, since you're helpless against it. Against anything. Weak is what you are. You can't save anyone, not even you. And no one wants to save you now-they're tired of it. Tired of dying for you."
1. Too Many Shelters

**This story is still a work in progress. However, I have gotten far enough in it that I feel somewhat comfortable in posting the first chapter, for your perusal. The basic idea has been set, and I admit, I'm excited for this story. It came to me unexpectedly, and while I'm still cultivating some of the small sub-plots, the main idea is firm in my head.**

**Updates are not as firm though. I want to do this right-which means careful editing to make the ideas I want to present come out right. With school, this may hinder the process, but I will work on it. I hope you, the readers, are all right with this. **

**With XIII-2's impending release, this will obviously be AU. I am not sure when Hope's birthday is, but for the sake of the story, I had him age to fifteen here (this is about two months or so after the fall of Cocoon). **

**Read and enjoy!**

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><p><em>I don't know… anymore. I don't know what I want to do, what I'm looking for. I thought things would be better and when I found out-out that dad was alive…<em>

_...really alive..._

_I was happy. I wasn't as alone in the world as I thought. But before I knew it, the others were gone and it was just me and him as the soldiers escorted us to a shelter. A small one, crowded with people who were all screaming and crying. Each one asking what they were going to do now, even though no one knew. No one had answers. _

_It had been dank too. Hot from the bodies, and something had smelled like vomit. But dad was next to me, his hand was on my shoulder, and things were all right. I wasn't alone._

_I figured it would take a while, but things would eventually start to settle down and dad and I would be able to start over. _

_I thought it'd be okay. _

_But…but it just-it's not getting better. The shelters are being put up and people are starting construction. The Guardian Corps is trying to put things back together-PSICOM is working with them. People are still-still trying to get over what happened but-_

_-it shouldn't be this bad. _

_Three shelters. Three whole shelters, and none of them are safe. Are the others having as much trouble as I am? Are Snow and Serah okay? What about Sazh and Dajh?_

_What about Lightning? _

_And it's not just that. I wish it was-maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I wouldn't feel so-so-_

_I don't know how I feel anymore. Dad just…he looks at me, but I don't think he sees me. He doesn't see me anymore. He looks and his eyes get all droopy and sad looking. He sighs a little bit and he gets this faraway look in his eyes. _

_He isn't seeing me. _

_He isn't…even looking at me. _

_Do I look like mom that much? I mean…I know I look like her, but is that all he can see? A ghost? _

_I don't want to be a ghost-I don't want to… I love mom. I love her and I miss her, and I know that if she were here none of this would be happening. But she's not here-she's not here and dad needs to see that. _

_He needs to see me. _

_I want him to see me. _

_Look at me. _

_Look at me. _

_I want you to look at _me.

_Please…_

_Please look at me. _

_I am not a ghost dad. I'm not. Don't see mom…_

_See me. _

_...when did I get so helpless?_

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><p>"Hope…"<p>

Green eyes blinked once, slowly drifting from the breath-fogged window of the vehicle. Hope's body bounced in his seat, the vehicle unable to drive smoothly with the terrain. A hand reached up and brushed away the silver bangs that hung around his face, and when those bright green eyes stared at him, Bartholomew was struck at how very, very much they reminded him of Nora.

Nora…

_But she's gone now. I need to be here-for her son. For our son. _

_I need to make this right again. _

"Yeah?" Bartholomew jumped at Hope's voice, peering into his pale face and swallowing hard. He looked away, scratching the shirt bristles of his brown hair before fidgeting with his glasses.

"We-we'll be at the shelter soon. You should get your coat out, and then we can talk to that soldier from before."

Hope nodded, reached down to the bottom of the van and pulled up a small, dark green jacket. He pulled it over himself and Bartholomew looked away, glad for the break of eye contact.

_So much like his mother though. I just-I keep seeing him, but then she pops in my mind. Over and over again. I need to just-just push past it. Focus on what's at hand._

_And this will be the fourth shelter…the_ fourth_. I need to help him, make him see that I'm here for him, and not her. A way to make him feel safe. _

_But how? _

_I worked for the Sanctum…that should help us. Really...it should have helped us already. But I cannot reach out and find the things I need to keep him safe. I never-before I knew it would be like this, with him being a l'Cie and all, but we'd be in hiding then. We would not be trying to live among everyone because he'd be branded-there wouldn't be much contact with the public. But now I don't know. Now there's uncertainty. Some of the public-some of these people are my allies, and others enemies. How many of them will look at Hope and see him as one of their saviors? As one of their most feared and hated enemies? _

_As a fifteen year old boy?_

"Dad!" Bartholomew jumped, eyes snapping to his son while Hope shook his arm. Hope's eyes were clouded and he was searching his father's face, biting his lip. Bartholomew opened his mouth-tried to say something, but Hope's eyes flashed and his arm dropped to his side. Bartholomew shook his head and tried to reach for him, but Hope was already pulling away, picking at the sleeves of his coat and nodding out the window.

"We're here now," Hope said, standing up and heading for the large metal doors of the van. "We're slowing down."

Bartholomew nodded, standing as well and pulling his large blue overcoat with him. He pulled it over his shoulders and sighed while the van pulled and screeched to a stop, the brakes whining before stuttering to a halt. The van lurched and Bartholomew had to slam his hand to the wall to keep his balance. He winced at the loud, metallic echo that followed, but Hope hadn't even glanced at him.

_He even managed to keep his balance… _Bartholomew shook his head again and clapped Hope's shoulder, making Hope look up at him. His green eyes -_so much like you Nora, so much like you-_ were once more searching his, but they looked away just as quickly.

Bartholomew held back a sigh and waited for the van's doors to open, squinting when the sunlight hit his eyes. He gave Hope a gentle push, watching as he jumped down from the truck. He bit his lip though, worried Hope would wander into the open without him, and the thought made his heart race. But Hope stopped when his feet touched grass, taking a few steps away so that Bartholomew could exit uninhibited. Hope nodded, looking from his father to the area around him and Bartholomew joined him, and his eyes narrowed as several people passed him by.

Like many of the shelters that were being placed on Pulse, construction was visible everywhere and noise was constant, ripping through the air. Drills and shouts, loud thumps and singing metal, tore through the air. There was the distinct smell of oil nearby that made Bartholomew wrinkle his nose, even though he'd been by the stuff for two months now.

Numerous airships were spread across the field, the doors open and ramps sent down on the ground while soldiers collected boxes and metal crates filled with supplies. The closest thing to a dirt road was the dying patches of grass left by sitting airships and military vans. There were several small, makeshift buildings made from salvaged metal or stone from Cocoon. The very same metals that were being carried on airships-anything from steel to iron, were with the soldiers and piled on airships. Boxes of food supplies caught his eye as well. Water, bread, meat, blankets, first-aid kits, and anything the civilians had managed to carry with them.

Soldiers were everywhere, guns toted, some with their rank blaring in yellow on the arms, their elbows, or small medals on their chests. Others had their helmets firmly in place, the metal covered heads whipping around at the smallest noises. Each of them surveyed the area with hard eyes, waiting for the growl or screech of one of Pulse's many wildlife creatures.

When Hope had told Bartholomew about the monsters of Gran Pulse, he had decided that he was very, very glad that he had been kept safe on an airship, and prayed to whatever gods there were that he would not have to see any such beasts up close and personal. Being on Pulse, it almost seemed inevitable that they would face attack. After seeing a Behemoth goring a battalion of ill-prepared soldiers did little to soothe his hopes that it would not happen here.

"This doesn't seem so bad." Bartholomew looked down at Hope as the words came floating to him, and he smiled at his son, giving him a slight nod. But Bartholomew looked back at the scene just as quickly. He no longer looked at the soldiers around him, but zeroed in on the civilians. Watched as many pairs of eyes looked away from him and turn to his son.

He found himself pulling Hope closer to him, his jaw tightening. Hope swallowed, not fighting his father's grip. Hope's own hand went to his stomach and Bartholomew found his own eyes mimicking the action. Promised himself that once they were safe inside their new home, he would change the bandages. Check the bruises.

"Excuse me." Bartholomew jumped and turned around, eyes landing on the soldier that had driven him and Hope there. He had a round face and his eyes were gray, and a small scar crossed his lips on the right corner. He smiled at him, bowing his head slightly. "I got your things out for you. I'll escort you to your unit, and you can unload from there." The solider smiled again and handed Bartholomew a small card, a purple line etched near the top, as well as a set of keys.

"The key is to get you into your new home. This card will allow you to get the supplies you need," he explained, his voice thin. "Each color represents something different, as you know by now. This shelter system works like this: yellow lines are for the general population, and they receive all the basic necessities. Green lines are for soldiers, but you don't need to worry about that. You have a purple line." The soldiers pointed to the same purple line from before and Bartholomew blinked when he saw Hope's silver head peering over at the card, his eyes dark.

"This shows that you had a high-ranking position with the Sanctum, and allows you a few more privileges. When you show this card to the soldiers handing out supplies, you'll be given not only the civilian packages, but allowed an extra ration of bread and water, as well as blankets. You will also be able to carry a small hand gun for protection, and mana drive, once those supplies arrive."

Bartholomew nodded, his chest swelling at the last bit. _At least this place is more organized, if they have a system like this. The last one was more along the lines of, if you're not a soldier, you're on your own._

Some of his surprise must have shown on his face because the soldier beamed at him. "Yup, you sure are lucky to have come here, sir. A few of the shelters are struggling to get off their feet, and we're still trying to figure out how to get us all in a collective group, to really kick ourselves off. Pulse is so big…and it's made things a little difficult for us on the front, but I think we'll be able to get it together soon. And, lucky for you, we're close enough to Cocoon that even some of the plumbing facilities have been re-routed, to provide us with running water."

"That is good," Bartholomew found himself saying. "I'll be sure to count our blessings." The solider smiled, not noticing the distant look on Bartholomew's face. Instead he gently placed his hand on his shoulder and started to lead him down the pathways to the shelters, a hand reaching out to absently grab their small cart filled with belongings. Bartholomew let him, calling to Hope as he went while eying his card, but when Hope trotted up to them he was surprised to see the anger flashing in his eyes.

Hope was staring at the soldier before his eyes traveled to the people around him, his hand going to his stomach again. Bartholomew bit his lip and was about to ask if the bruises were hurting, but Hope spoke before he could, "So…what about the civilians? Why do we get treated special, especially when they need help too?"

Bartholomew found his heart stuttering before it kick-started into overdrive. The soldier turned around, his eyebrows raised, and Bartholomew found himself screaming in his head, _Please no. Please-no, no, no. Don't get mad, don't get mad. He didn't mean it that way, he didn't-_

"I'm sorry you feel that way, boy", the soldier said, looking at Bartholomew and giving him a knowing smile. Hope sneered at the word boy, but the soldier missed it. "It's just one of those things you'll understand when you're older."

Bartholomew breathed out a silent thanks, watching the soldier's back when he turned back around. He did not, though, miss the dark look that had passed over Hope's face, and he knew he'd have to talk to him about it soon, whether Hope wanted to or not.

"And this is your unit," the solider said, pulling Bartholomew out of his thoughts. "It's not much, but I think you'll be happy. We managed to get a bathroom installed here as well, but you will have to share a room. And I trust you know where to show that card." Bartholomew nodded, but the soldier was already turning around and heading back to the van.

Bartholomew scanned the small building in front of him. The home, like many of the civilian houses around him, was made of water washed stone. Some of the building was chipped near the edges, but it had all its walls, a small roof, and a door. It was more than enough for them, and Bartholomew turned to Hope, eyes scrunching in concern when he saw he was leaning on the building and breathing heavily out of his nose.

"Is your stomach hurting you again?" Hope nodded, closing his eyes. Bartholomew knelt next to him and brushed his bangs away from his eyes. "All right then. You head inside and lie down. Take your shirt off if you think it will help. I'll go down and pick our supplies, but I think we still have some pain meds in the bag.

Bartholomew bit his lip when he realized he didn't have the keys anymore, but Hope jangled them in front of his face, offering him a small smile. Bartholomew nodded, smiling in relief, and patted Hope's back. "Go ahead inside then, and I'll wheel in our things before I go. Lock the door and don't let anyone but me in, all right?"

"No dad, I'm going to open it when the axe murderer knocks, saying he wants to cut out my liver," Hope snorted, shaking his head, but Bartholomew rolled his eyes.

"I want you to be careful, Hope. We don't need a repeat of what happened-"

"I know," Hope said, his voice tight. "I know you don't want that. I don't either. I'll just-" Hope stopped and Bartholomew found himself backpedaling, trying to find his mistake and correct it, but Hope had already jammed the key into the door and was pushing it open. He turned back to Bartholomew and took the cart by both hands, wheeling it inside. "You go ahead, dad. I can handle this."

Bartholomew shook his head but Hope had already pulled the cart inside and was waving at him, shutting the door behind him. Bartholomew stared at the door for a moment, his hand outstretched before he let it fall to his side. He ran a hand over his face, his glasses lifting before dropping back to the bridge of his nose.

"I just don't know what I'm going to do with you, Hope." Bartholomew shook his head and turned away, bringing the card to his eyes. He looked at the purple line near the top of the card, recalling Hope's words and dark look. But as unfair as it was, Bartholomew couldn't help but feel grateful for the small edge he had been given. Anything to help him protect his son and to provide for him again.

He started down the pathway again, but Hope's eyes kept flashing in his mind. The startling green scrunched slightly in fear and disappointment. Eyes swirling with emotion and trying to hide it at the same time. A soft face. Silver hair.

For a moment, Bartholomew had seen Nora.


	2. Gray Shrouds

**I am sorry this took so long. I want to focus more on this story though, so hopefully it won't happen too much (with Skyrim coming, I make no promises). I owe people replies and I'll get to them-I just haven't been up to snuff lately. Which is a nice way of saying this month has sucked for me. **

**The chapter is a tad short, but chapter three is too long, and the way it breaks means it'll stay short. I'm sorry about that. Anyway, enjoy this somewhat late update, and thank you all for supporting me. It means a ton, and I hope the chapters that follow this will be a joy to read as they were a joy to write.**

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><p>Supplies were easier to retrieve than Bartholomew had thought they would be, and for that he was grateful. After the first shelter, he had become apprehensive of how things would be run-and if there would be enough food to feed Hope, let alone himself. He worried about the violence that seemed to surround him and his son now, circling their heads and waiting for the chance to tear them apart, as it had the first time and the many times that followed.<p>

The first act had caught Bartholomew by surprise. One of the men that had been waiting in line had looked at Bartholomew, said nothing, and done nothing. Normal. No one had wanted to talk after the disaster. It was when that man's eyes had turned to Hope that they lit up with anger, flashed with a rage Bartholomew had not seen before, and suddenly Hope was on the ground, clutching his arm.

Bartholomew had seen red. Knew he had seen red, because the next second the man was on the ground and his own knuckle was bleeding and he was swearing up a storm. He had done the unthinkable and struck another man; had the blood on his skin to prove it, and Hope had stared at him, eyes wide.

Bartholomew almost smiled at the memory; not at the idea of someone hitting his son _–I'd hit him again, too- _but that Hope had later pulled him aside and said he'd never seen him so mad, with a quiet awe in his voice that made Bartholomew's chest swell.

He hadn't known that it was only the start of something far bigger, and far worse, than he could have imagined.

"I'm back, Hope," Bartholomew called, banging on the door. "Let me in now and I'll take a look at your stomach, all right?"

He closed his eyes and waited for a soft creak near the door. He heard something click and the door swung open, Hope on the other side. Hope's shirt was off, exposing his bare chest to the air, and Bartholomew winced when he glanced at his son's stomach.

Unlike the rest of his pale-skinned body, his stomach had dark, deep purple bruising. It was lighter near the edges of the bruise, even starting to yellow, but when his eyes traveled to Hope's eyes he could see the pain in them. He nodded, shifting the small boxes in his hands. "Let me in and we'll get you fixed up."

Hope nodded and stepped aside, but not before snatching a box from the small pile in Bartholomew's hands and taking it in. Bartholomew heard a small grunt and hiss as Hope took some of the load, but bit his tongue.

_I have to let him be more independent. He wants it…and if I give it to him here, maybe he won't be so reckless out in public._

Bartholomew surveyed the small room, letting Hope lead the way. The living room was small, with a torn, two-seat couch in one corner and a wooden coffee table sitting in front of it. A kitchen was connected to the room, tiled floors peeking out of the corner of his vision, and a small hallway led to what he imagined to be his and Hope's room.

Hope set the box on the floor near the coffee table and leaned toward the right, hand clutching his stomach. Bartholomew narrowed his eyes and set the boxes down where Hope set his, kneeling beside Hope and pulling his hands away.

"All right, let me see."

"It's not that bad. It just stings a little." But Bartholomew wasn't listening. Instead he peered at the bruised flesh, brushing his hand against it, his ears perking when Hope hissed.

"It better not be infected," Bartholomew muttered to himself. "I haven't had a chance to see if there's a clinic around here yet." He stood up, muttering for Hope to stay put for a second while he dragged one of the boxes to him. He unfolded the top and dug his hands inside, fingers brushing against the tip of cool metal.

"Were there any painkillers?" Bartholomew glanced back at Hope as he felt for a handle.

Hope shook his head and Bartholomew nodded, sliding the white tin First-Aid kit out and laying it on the green-carpeted floor. He snapped it open and pulled out a small, white bottle of painkillers and a gauze of bandages.

"What happened to your old bandages?" Bartholomew asked, unrolling the new white cloth and bringing Hope closer. He pushed Hope's arms in the air and started to wrap the bandages around his stomach, careful not to tighten them too much.

"I threw them out." Hope looked to the side, his cheeks flaring. "I don't know why I need bandages. They're bruises, so it's not like it helps."

"It's in case it opens, Hope. And for swelling. And-"

"To make you feel better?" Hope asked, his voice quiet.

Bartholomew paused for a second, but slowly nodded. "You could say that." _It feels like I've managed to do something for you, even if I haven't. Makes me feel useful...  
><em>

"All right," Hope said, sighing. His voice was quiet, resigned. "Go ahead."

Bartholomew nodded and finished tying the bandages, reaching for the bottle and popping it open, handing two pills to Hope. "Take those. They might make you a little drowsy, so if you need to take a nap, I won't stop you. I might head out for a while and see what it's like around the shelter, how friendly everyone is."

Hope was already nodding and turned around, but he paused when he heard the last part. He glanced back at his father, worrying his lower lip and glancing between Bartholomew and the kitchen. He breathed through his nose, tapping his foot.

"Do-do you think I can come?"

Bartholomew's chest tightened. It had been the very question he'd been dreading, and he still didn't have an answer for it, despite the scenarios that ran in his mind.

"I don't know, Hope," Bartholomew said slowly. "I don't know how comfortable I feel with you running around with that bruise on your stomach, and us not knowing how things work here."

_I don't know how safe it will be._

"But I'll be with you," Hope said, voice rising slightly.

Bartholomew closed his eyes and heard the unspoken words. _"I'll be safe with you around."_

"I don't like it, Hope. I don't want to put you in danger or something. And besides, what if something happened to me? Then you'd be on your own…"

Hope's mouth opened slightly and Bartholomew wanted to hit himself. _That's it Bartholomew. Say that. Could I have sounded like a bigger-_

"I'm old enough to be on my own." Bartholomew's eyes snapped back to Hope's and he could feel his own blood start to rise at the look of defiance shining in Hope's glare. "I was doing fine before."

"You were traveling with other, stronger adults…and you had magic. Neither of those are here now. I am your father and I am telling you to stay home."

"I'll be fine!"

"You weren't fine last time!" Bartholomew shouted. "Last time I found you in an alley and had to take you to some rundown, poor excuse of a hospital. Last time earned you a bruise the size of Cocoon on your stomach." Bartholomew didn't see the defiance and rebellion vanish from Hope's eyes, taking a step toward his son and grabbing him by the shoulders. His voice was loud to his own ears, but all he could see was Hope in an alley, bleeding on the ground. Hope covered in mud and dirt and gasping for breath. Hope holding his hand and saying he was all right.

Nora, falling to her death for the millionth time since he'd been told.

"I am not losing you too!" Bartholomew shouted, squeezing Hope's shoulders. "I refuse to lose you, you got it? You are staying here, in this home, with the door locked, so you stay safe. And that's final. Do you understand me?"

Hope's wide eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, ready with his own string of words, his own tirade. Of how he was fine now, how he was stronger and gone to hell and back so they could live at all-even if it was on Gran Pulse. He was ready to release his frustration and hurt and grief and annoyance on the last piece of family he had left.

And it was that thought that stopped him.

The fight left Hope's eyes and he sagged in his father's grip. Looked down at the ground and said nothing. He felt his father's fingers gradually loosen their hold on him, and then felt a small breeze as his father stood away from him. He did not look up when he heard his father's steps, the soft sounds of his feet against the carpet, and he did not look when the door opened and closed.

Instead he stood there. The pills were still in his hands, and he could feel sweat starting to leak on the medicine. His chest was cold from the air in the house, his stomach was burning, and he started to shake. His eyes were stinging and he swiped his arm across his eyes.

For the first time in months, Hope cried for his mother.

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><p>"<em>I am not losing you too!" <em>

_Too…_

_What would he do…if he did lose me? What would I do if I lost him? Why is it okay for him to risk his life, if it's so dangerous out there? Why do I have to stay safe and out of danger? It wasn't like this before. _

Hope groaned, the pills sitting forgotten on the small bedside table in what was to be his and Bartholomew's room. It was a double bed, and Hope had wondered briefly what it would be like sharing a bed with a parent again. With his father no less.

_Maybe the couch could be my bed instead. _

Yet before he knew what he was doing, Hope had wandered onto the bed and rested his body against the surprisingly soft mattress. He had set the pills down and refused to take them, a small and petty act of refusal against his father, although his stomach was now roaring because of his decision.

Hope rolled on his side and shut his eyes, letting out a small sigh.

_I miss everyone…Vanille and Fang the most though. I can't even...try to visit them. What about them? They're stuck as crystals now, and for what? And Snow and Serah are supposed to be getting married-and Lightning. I wonder what she's up to now too. Sazh should be all right with Dajh, but I still want to talk to him. I bet he'd know what to do about all this. I miss them…_

_But I don't think they even know where were are anymore. We've moved so much and so fast-_

_I wish they were here right now. Maybe then-maybe then this wouldn't be so bad-_

Hope sighed again and ran his hand over his face before letting it fall to his mattress. There were no windows in the room and it was already dark inside. Hope didn't bother to reach for the lamp that was sitting by his bedside. Until the mana drives were delivered, there would be no electricity.

_I bet winters here are hell._

The thought of winter made him curl his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around his legs, shuddering at the thought. He kept his eyes closed and let his breathing slow, his mind slowing with it.

_I just…_

_I wish I could do more. _

_Am I really back to this? Back to be the little weakling that everyone has to protect? I want to go outside-I want to be able to look around and not have to worry about what's going to happen next. _

_And dad…_

_He keeps looking but-but is he really..._

Hope shook his head, sneering a little, but even that fell from his face. He just let his body lay limp on the bed, his mind stuttering to a stop as sleep crept over him.

Hope welcomed it; both as an escape from the pain in his stomach and the pain in his heart.

* * *

><p>"Hope, I'm back," Bartholomew called into the house. This time he had taken the key with him, in case Hope had tried to make any daring escapes, though Bartholomew doubted that he would. He was met with silence and glancing around the living room revealed no Hope.<p>

Sighing, Bartholomew stepped into the house and closed the door, locking it behind him. He made his way to the couch and sat on the overstuffed, graying cushions, running a hand through his hair. His glasses began to slide off his nose and he pushed them back up, recalling the eyes of everyone he had come across.

_None of them seemed particularly unfriendly, but I didn't exactly have Hope with me either. How many are aware of him? Aware of his brand and his role with the Sanctum, the Fal'Cie, and-and just everything. How many of them are grateful for it?_

_How many of them hate him for it? _

_Will my boy be safe here? Will I be able to let him out into this place. Before-before we had been so close-so close to losing everything we had worked for. If I hadn't found him in time-_

Bartholomew shook his head and pushed himself from the couch, glancing at the sparsely decorated kitchen before heading down the hallway. He blinked when he saw one of the doors in the hall was open and he stepped inside, eyes snapping to Hope's curled form on the bed. Bartholomew walked further inside, squinting his eyes in the darkness, and sat on the bed. He watched Hope's brow furrow in his sleep, reaching for his son's hand and grasping the fingers. Hope didn't stir.

"So this is where you wandered off to," Bartholomew whispered. He glanced around the room, spotting a bedside table, and squinted at two small white pills on the surface. Shaking his head, Bartholomew reached forward and pinched the pills in his hands, glancing back at Hope.

_Were you that mad at me then? I doubt this was good for your stomach._

Bartholomew sighed, setting the pills back down and promising himself to make Hope take them once he woke up. Bartholomew stretched onto the bed, looking up at the plain ceiling before letting his arm fall over his eyes.

_What should I do, Nora? You were always better at understanding him-at connecting with him. Strangers are better at communicating with my son than I am, and here I am trying to make this mess right again. If you were here, I would be able to do this. _

_If you were here-_

Just like that, a giant, empty hole reopened in Bartholomew's chest and sucked all the air out of him, making him bite his lip at the violent way his lungs imploded. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could and leaned his head into the slightly stiff pillow, images of his late wife flashing before his eyes.

_She held him in her arms and they were resting on the bed, breathing a little harder and smiling despite themselves. And before he could say anything, she pulled him to face her and leaned in for a kiss-_

_He smiled and pressed a hand to her stomach, jumping when he felt the steady beat of a kicking foot. _

_The foot of their child._

_She was there, shrouded in gray mist and holding her hand out to him. He tried to reach for it, but when he just managed to bring her slender fingers to him she bursts. Smoke billowed around him and her vapor filled his lungs. He gasped, kicked, but a smaller figure formed in the shroud of gray. Held a small hand out. His eyes were green and so much like Nora's that it's painful. _

_The ghost opened his mouth and Bartholomew shut his eyes. _

Bartholomew's eyes snapped open at the strange onslaught of thoughts and images and he turned to Hope. Watched Hope's shoulders move up and down with his breathing. Bartholomew shook his head and turned around on the bed, looking at the door instead.

He listened to each of Hope's breaths...let his son's presence calm him. And later, when sleep had fogged his mind and the gray shroud overtook him, he thought some of those breaths were Nora's.


	3. A Cage

**Le gasp! An update? The world is coming to an end-for it is not late!**

**But don't get too excited. Skyrim is here this week and I fear this will be sorely neglected. We shall see. But I make no promises.**

**However, you guys are awesome. Your reviews make me smile and feel all warm inside-I will try to reply to them so I can let you know more! I'm glad you're enjoying this. I did my best to edit this chapter, but let me know if there are some errors.**

**Also, I have tumblr now. I hear it's the new, biggest thing. All the kids are doing it. So I linked it in my profile homepage thingy. *shameless plug is shameless*  
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**And forgive my _punny_ sense of humor. :D  
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><p>It was a week later when Hope decided to venture out on his own. He did so without his father, despite the new habit Bartholomew had developed; taking the keys wherever he went.<p>

So Hope leaned next to the door after having an internal fight with the knob. Mostly it had been a staring contest, as if he could will it open with his mind.

This, ultimately, had proved futile.

Instead, Hope looked through the boxes, praying that something he could use was still within cardboard squares to help him escape his father's prison, born from over-protectiveness. And when he had found the paperclip he grinned.

_It will be like all of those movies-_

-until he broke the paperclip.

Hope had sworn up a storm and stomped around the house, shuddering at the thought that he would be doomed to planned trips out with his father until Bartholomew deemed the shelter safe. He had wandered into the kitchen and spotted the window. The only one in the house.

And smiled.

_A _window_ of opportunity?_

Hope was out twenty minutes later. His stomach was throbbing and he had nicked his ankle on a loose nail, but was otherwise none the worse for wear. He wandered the paths of the shelter, eyes darting around and landing on anything that moved, people and things alike. However, he could not deny the fluttering in his chest whenever someone's eyes lingered on him for too long. His hands were clenched at his sides and he was doing everything in his power to tell them to stop shaking and sweating. He kept glancing behind him, imagining people were following him but meeting only shadows, and he thought there was someone whispering in each of the houses he passed.

Hope shook his head at every phantom and kept going though, determined to have a look around without his father breathing down his neck. _Once he catches me, I don't think he'll let me out again. Unless I whine…a _lot_. And even then it's not looking too good for my future prospects. _

_I just…I wish he'd let me have a little more freedom. Anything would be better than sitting at home and being useless all the time. _

Something crashed behind him and Hope jumped, his hand shooting to his chest as his heart pumped double. He narrowed his eyes at an overturned trashcan, bits of paper and a few bottles littering the grass its gaping mouth, and shook his head.

_And really, come on. I can do better than this. A few months ago I was traveling with a bunch of adults, fighting to save the world. This should be a piece of cake. Walking around should be easy-I shouldn't be jumping at every little thing that comes by. And I was doing all of that when I was fourteen! Fourteen! At fifteen I should be more than able to handle something like this. I'm like...three years away from adulthood._

Hope nodded to himself and stomped over to the trashcan, kneeling beside it and scooping the trash back inside. His eyes darted up toward the house that it had fallen by, his heart lodging in his throat.

_What if someone comes out? This doesn't exactly look good..._

He waited for the door to open and for narrowed eyes to land on him. For questions and glares and maybe a well placed kick. But in his head, he was still convincing himself that he was ready for this-ready for anything.

_What kind of man would I be if I let what happened last time drag me down. I was a l'Cie! A Pulse l'Cie no less. I should be fine. I don't have to let what happened get to me-and I shouldn't. What would Lightning think if you ran off, scared of what would happen to you? Does she ever run? No? I didn't think so. _

Hope's chest swelled and he shoved the last bit of paper inside the can, banging his fingers. He felt something crack and scrape his knuckle, but he ignored the slight sting and stood the trashcan up, smiling to himself.

_See? You even did your good deed of the day. Nothing to it. _

The door opened though. Hope heard the soft whoosh, then the bang as the door hit the side of the house. He looked up, taking a step back when a woman stepped out of the house. Her hair was a bright light brown, long and curly. Her brown eyes found him and for a moment she only stared, her eyes narrowed, searching his face as if she were trying to find something.

"Who are-" She took a few steps toward him only to stop, eyes wide. She blinked at him, her eyebrows shooting up into her hair, and Hope's stomach clenched.

"Um-you-your trashcan fell over so I thought-thought that I could-" _Stop stuttering, stop stuttering. Just tell her what you were doing and she'll understand. _But Hope kept stepping backward, his eyes fixed on the woman, his hands trembling.

"I recognize you," the woman breathed, shaking her head and stepping toward Hope. "From before, when Cid Raines had been-and then-"

Hope shook his head and took several more steps back, biting his lip and glancing around. "It's not-I mean, maybe-"

"You're one of the l'Cie…" the woman mumbled, her eyes quivering. "Right here, in our little shelter, one of the l'Cie that-that-"

Hope could sense it. The way his hairs began to stand on end, the wide eyes and quivering lips of the woman, and the way the air was just rushing from his lungs told him he had to run. It didn't matter where, although home sounded good. He had to get away from her before she did something desperate. Bad.

Before he was in an alley again.

Hope whipped around and started running, but the woman had already begun to shout, "L'Cie! L'Cie! My god, there is a l'Cie here! Someone-anyone-"

Hope pressed his hands over his ears as he ran, eyes flickering to the homes and heart jumping when he saw several of the doors open up, people blinking and looking around at the woman. Hope swallowed hard and looked ahead of him, his stomach throbbing and his legs burning while he ran down the pathways toward the airships and soldiers.

Get to someone safe. Get to someone that can protect me-But what if they're not following me? I mean-I mean just because one person-

Hope squashed the thought though, stamped it out and waited for the flash of a PSI-COM helmet or a Guardian Corps band. Behind him, he heard the steady thumping of other feet. The rise of voices, shouts, were drifting back to him, but he didn't dare try to make any of them out.

Someone. I need someone. Please I need someone!

"Filthy l'Cie! Look at what you've done to us! Look at what you've done! Our homes. My father-gone because of you!"

"How dare one of those creatures show their faces around here. When we're trying to recover!"

"We're trying to rebuild! Why won't you leave us alone? Haven't you done enough to us?"

Hope shut his eyes and shook his head, crying out when a rock came and pelted him in the head, the neck, and the shoulder. An airship came into view as he finally passed the last row of houses and he almost cried in relief. Soldiers were looking around, and some of them were even pointing at him and the small group of people running after him.

It was when he heard _her_ voice, however, when Hope felt his knees buckle.

"What is going on back here? Theses people need these mana drives, and you're all over here gawking. What would happen if some beast came swooping in on your heads?"

Her voice was no-nonsense. Tough and stern, with a hint of sarcasm. She sounded grumpy and cranky, and she was using the tone she had when she was trying to leave him behind.

But it was still Lightning.

"L-Light! Lightning! Lightning!" Hope pushed himself back up, even though the other members of the crowd had fallen behind when the soldiers had swarmed them, taking the wooden boards and rocks the civilians had brought as weapons from the group as well.

Hope was running past the soldiers' hands when they reached down, some asking if he was okay, others telling him to stop. His eyes were searching through the sea of faces and helmets, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who had done more than protect him as a l'Cie. And when her strawberry head bobbed up from the others, a few strands curving her cheeks, blue eyes wide and looking, Hope almost collapsed.

He pushed himself toward her, shoving past the soldiers and elbowing them when they didn't move right away. He grabbed her arms when he was finally in front of her and his knees gave way again, but he buried her face against her and shuddered.

"Lightning. Lightning. Lightning."

"H-Hope…you-you're here?" Hope nodded, pressing closer to her and wrapping his arms around her middle. His body was shaking and something warm was dribbling down his head, but his heart had stopped beating so madly against his chest.

Lightning was just as he remembered her. She was strong and pretty, and when she placed hand on his head, softly ruffling the locks, he knew that nothing had changed between them. He smiled, but his face was burning. He pushed himself up from the ground, his legs wobbling from the effort, and he stepped away from her, glancing at the ground.

"Um…hey, Light," Hope muttered, his voice small. "I-I know it hasn't been a long time and all, but I missed you. I hope…you're doing all right and that-"

He stopped when Lightning knelt next to him, sucking in his breath when she peered into his face. Her blue eyes were hard on his, and she narrowed them, hand reaching to brush a few bangs out of his face. Her hands pressed against his temple and she brought two fingers in front of her face, her hands stained red. Hope jumped at the blood and felt his temple for himself, pulling his hand away and seeing the red liquid sliding down his fingers.

"I-I didn't even-but-"

"Who?" Lightning's tone was soft and controlled, but Hope's heart started again, and he shook his head.

"It's-I mean, I don't think they knew what they were doing and I-"

"I don't care if they didn't know what they were doing. You don't go around hurting…" Lightning stopped, shaking her head and closing her eyes. She squeezed his shoulders and stood up, pressing her hand against his back and pushing through the crowd of soldiers.

"Wait ma'am, I think we need-"

"No," Lightning mumbled, her face tight and eyes hard. "I am going to talk to them. I know what this is about. And I won't tolerate it." The solider that addressed her nodded, backing away from Lightning. Hope jumped when the same soldier clapped him from behind, mumbling words he didn't catch. His eyes were brought back to Lightning and eventually the crowd when they finally pushed through the soliders.

The civilians that had come after him were all huddled together by the soldiers, and Hope easily found the brown-haired woman from before. Several eyes shot to him and Hope shrank back at the glares, but Lightning grabbed his shoulder and squeezed again before speaking.

"Why are you all chasing him?" she asked, her voice calm but hard. "He's just a teenager…I doubt he poses any threat to you. So why are you running after him? Why are you trying to hurt him?" Lightning narrowed her eyes. "I want a good explanation as to why grown men and woman would chase after a kid."

The brunette from before stepped forward, her hands shaking at her sides. "He-he is a l'Cie! He is one of the people that caused all of this-why we're here now! Because of him-"

"So that's it." Lightning shook her head and the woman fell silent, her eyes darting between Hope and Lightning. The woman slowly brought her hand to her mouth, a small squeak escaping her while her eyes continued to flicker between them. She took a step back and the other civilians glanced at her, blinking in surprise.

Lightning narrowed her eyes at the woman. "So you recognize me? From the television reports and things. I'm another of those _former_ l'Cie that you're so bent out of shape about. Are you going to try and come after me too?" Lightning's voice was calm and her face blank expect for her glare, but Hope still shuddered from beside her.

"B-but you're working with the military...why would they let a l'Cie have such easy access to us? Don't they realize-"

"I think the only ones not realizing something are all of you," Lightning said, taking a step forward. "But if you're all really that worried, then I'm sure there is another shelter that is more than willing to take you in. This is only one of several, and they are growing by the day. Maybe-"

Lightning stopped when another solider came up next to her, wearing a similar, yellow lighted band. She blinked at the man and Hope looked back at him as well, tilting his head to the side. The man was a little older, his brown hair speckled with gray, and his light brown eyes lined and wrinkled. His lips were cut, a small chunk missing from the corner, and when he nodded his head at Lightning, Hope glanced at his hands and saw the several fingers were missing from his right.

"For now, I think that will be enough, Miss Farron." His voice was rough as well, his words slow and careful. "I will handle it from here, and make sure we can avoid a repeat of what happened here today. How about you take this young man home? I'm sure he'll appreciate the company."

Hope looked up at Lightning, swallowing when she nodded her head and grabbed him by the shoulder, steering him away. "Thank you, sir," Lightning called back to him, prodding Hope a little harder in the shoulder. He felt a throb but didn't wince, not wanting to worry her further.

She set a brisk pace, weaving Hope through a few of the soldiers and around the civilians, quickly turning the corner before the other man's voice filled the air. By the time the man had started talking, Hope had barely managed to hear a bit about discipline before his voice was lost.

Hope looked up at Lightning, his ears burning red, but she didn't seem to notice. She looked around the area, catching the eyes of a few more people before looking down at Hope.

"That was dangerous, Hope."

Hope's eyes widened before he looked away, his cheeks flushing. "I know it was. But-it's not like I meant-"

"I know you didn't, Hope. I'm just saying...you need to be more careful. Times are tough...things between people are strained enough as it is, and I don't want to see you getting hurt." Lightning paused for a second, looking away from Hope and scanning the shelter units around. "Which one is yours?" she asked, eyes back on him.

"Just keep going straight, I'll stop us when we get there." Hope sighed, running a hand over his face. He jumped when he felt Lightning's hands on his head, glancing up at her when she started to inspect the wounds.

"We need to get this cleaned up," she mumbled, shaking her head. "I can't believe they did this to you. Your hand too..." She ruffled his hair and Hope felt his lips tugging up into a smile. "The thing is Hope, you don't have your magic to defend yourself anymore, so it's harder-"

"I know," Hope said, cutting across her. He bit his lip at the glare she sent him, but she nodded for him to continue. "I know that I don't have my magic anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm weak or something."

"No one is saying that it makes you weak," Lightning said, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm just saying that it means you're going to have to play it a little smarter. There's a huge difference between small fights between fellow teenagers and trying to take on a mob of people. And that was what was about to happen."

Hope's eyes darkened, trailing to the ground, and Lightning's eyes softened. She opened her mouth to speak but Hope lifted his hand and muttered stop, waving at the building in front of them. Lightning looked at the shelter and nodded, but neither of them moved.

Lightning sighed, her head buzzing. "Do you have the key?"

"No..." Hope muttered. "I snuck out."

Hope chanced a look at Lightning, wondering if she would be surprised or disappointed, but she only nodded. Her face was otherwise blank and Hope bit his lip, looking back at the house. He shrugged and walked to the wall, leaning against it before letting his body slide to the ground. He pulled his legs up to his chest and pressed his face against his knees, blowing out a sigh.

"Hope." He jumped when he heard a thud next to him, a small breeze hitting his face when Lightning slid down beside him. She looked at him, reaching a hand out and ruffling his hair again. Hope blinked, eyes widening, but he couldn't stop the small smile from forming on his face. He relaxed against the wall, letting one of his legs spread in front of him, and watched the clouds float by above his head.

"So you've been having some trouble with your dad?" Lightning asked eventually.

Hope closed his eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath. "It's just...lately, it seems like we can't really talk about anything. We've...well, we've been going from shelter to shelter the past few times and-"

"Why?" Hope winced, catching the concern and warning in her voice. He had tried to rush through this part, if only to avoid talking about it, but sighed. _Maybe I can just tell her a few things?_

"We had a few problems with the others, kind of similar to what just happened." Hope shook his head and Lightning watched when his hand went to his stomach, rubbing the skin underneath the shirt. "I mean, it was nothing too serious...but we still had to move before they did get serious, you know? So that's what we've been doing. This is our fourth shelter so far."

Hope shook his head, eyes scrunched shut. "But because of that, dad gets worried way too easily. He won't let me go out of the house...never, unless I'm with him. He's way too freaked out, and now that this happened, there's no way I'll be able to do anything. And-and if he gets too scared, he might even move us again. And I don't want to move, Light."

Hope's voice cracked and he wanted to hit himself for breaking down in front of Lightning. His mentor, his teacher, and the one person above anyone that he wanted to show he was _strong._

_Failing at that quite spectacularly, Estheim._

But the words kept coming, desperate to show someone, anyone, what he was feeling. "I'm so sick of having to jump around everywhere just because-because we can't handle what other people are doing, or what they think of us or me. I want to be able to-to _try_ and make things all right again. But dad doesn't seem-I mean, sometimes he looks at me, and it doesn't seem like I'm there."

Hope missed the slight flash in Lightning's eyes, his voice rising as he rushed, "I don't know-it seems like he's staring at someone else sometimes-when he tries so hard to protect me, it seems like he's trying to protect-"

"Hope-"

"Do I look that much like her?" Hope's voice was small and Lightning bit her lip, thinking of a time back on Cocoon when she had first spotted Hope and his mother. The memory was small and disjointed-something involving chocobos, but from what she could remember, Hope had looked like Nora. And later, when Snow had been talking, relieving some of his sins, he had mentioned how much Hope looked like his mother. How odd it had been to look at him-and how very stupid he had been not to notice the connection until he was staring down a dagger.

She opened her mouth, eyes darting from Hope to her fingers, but Hope nodded. A small smile flitted across his face, but it held no humor or joy. The corner of his mouth was twisted, and his eyes were narrowed. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I guess I do..."

"Hope." Lightning shook her head and made to stand, but Hope just kept smiling, even once Lightning was on her feet. She looked down at him, searching her mind for something to say, but a voice behind her made her look around. Hope's eyes shot up as well, widening when they saw Bartholomew standing in front of the door. Bartholomew's own eyes were wide, going from Lightning to Hope with his mouth hanging open, and Hope would have laughed had it been any other time-any other circumstance.

"H-Hope? What are you doing here, outside? And Miss Farron, I didn't even know you were-" Bartholomew stopped when his eyes landed on the now dried blood on the side of Hope's head. Bartholomew skidded to his knees, dropping in front of Hope and brushing Hope's bangs from his eyes.

"What happened?" Bartholomew seethed, his eyes flashing. Hope swallowed, glancing up at Lightning, eyes pleading. Lightning nodded, taking a step forward, but Bartholomew spoke before she could. "You snuck out, didn't you? And wound up getting hurt. Did you fall? Or was it something worse? Is that why she's here?" Bartholomew nodded back to Lightning and she looked away, giving him a small nod.

"I see. Come on, Hope, we're going inside for a talk. Miss Farron," Bartholomew said, glancing back at her and nodding. "Would you please join us?" Lightning found herself nodding and following Bartholomew and Hope inside once Bartholomew had opened the door to the house. Hope looked back at her, his eyes wide and quivering, but Lightning could do nothing to offer him any solace. She had no idea how Bartholomew was going to react, but if the way Hope was acting was any indication, it was not going to be pretty.

Lightning snapped the door shut behind her, squinting when the sun was swallowed by the darkness of the living room. Bartholomew muttered something and pushed Hope toward Lightning, fumbling down the room to find a candle.

Lightning glanced down at Hope, narrowing her eyes when she felt him trembling against her, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Hope jumped at the contact, looking back at her and shaking his head, and she could see the sweat mixing with the blood on his head. Lightning's eyes flickered away when something bright entered her vision and she looked at the small candle the Bartholomew had set on the table, but the man was gone again before she could react.

Shaking her head, Lightning looked back at Hope. "Relax Hope. Things will be all right. I'll explain to him what happened-"

"But Light-"

"And discuss the actions we can take to keep you safe. We might be able to give you a little more freedom if this goes well, all right? And you won't have to go anywhere."

Hope's eyes were roving her face, searching for the lie in her words, and when he spoke his voice was small and quiet, "Do you really think so? This-this was exactly what dad was afraid of. But I was just-I am so sick of being afraid all of the time. I'm sick of having to hide myself away because people don't like what I was-and now I can't even protect myself from them!" Hope shook his head, pressing his fingers to his eyes.

"I don't-I don't want to go back to who I was. I want to be able to protect myself-I want you and dad and everyone to just-" Hope swallowed, stopping himself. "Is it bad that...that I want to be a l'Cie again? Not with the whole-the whole eternal life crap, or being a C'ieth, but for the _magic_. It was what I was good at. I could handle anything so long as I had that and now-now look at me. I have to stay holed up in some house because of what other people can do to me now."

Lightning's eyes flashed and she knelt beside Hope, taking his chin in her hand and forcing him to look at her. His eyes widened and he almost took a step back from her-would have if she had not held him in place. Lightning glanced at the doorway, her heart racing at the idea of Bartholomew walking in on them when she had Hope like this.

"I don't want to hear that kind of talk from you," she mumbled, her glare softening. "I know you can handle this and I know you can handle yourself. No one said that this was going to get better overnight-you and I both know that. But now I'm here, and I think I can manage to do a few things to help you out. So just be patient, Hope. I _know _you can do this."

Hope's eyes were still locked on hers even after she released his face and Lightning felt her cheeks start to burn at the way Hope stared at her. She stood up, straightening out her blouse and looking away from him, folding her arms over her chest. Hope's eyes never left her though, and a small smile was spreading across his face. He shook his head, wiping his arm over his face, and Lightning felt her chest swell with warmth.

The moment was broken when Bartholomew walked back into the room, a first aid kit in his hands and a scowl on his face. He glanced at Hope, and Lightning looked back at the teen as well, hands clenching when she saw the smile had fallen from his face. Bartholomew was already next to him, opening the kit with a small click and pulling out a small spray can and some bandages.

"I don't think it's bleeding anymore, dad," Hope said, his voice strained. Bartholomew ignored him, wiping away some blood with a washcloth before lifting up Hope's hair and spraying the small cuts on the side of his head. Hope winced as the stinging sensation made his head throb, glaring at the offending can when the stinging spray finally stopped. Bartholomew wasted not time and brought the bandages up to Hope's head, starting to wrap them around the skull, but Hope grabbed his arm.

"Please dad, can't we use some band-aids or something? It's not like I have some head trauma or something." Hope's eyes slid down to his father's hands, blinking when he saw the slight tremble. Hope shook his head and hardened his eyes, trying not to think of the tremors. "I think it would be better-they won't think I got hurt too badly, and maybe they'll leave me alone...at least for a while. I won't seem weaker in front of them."

Bartholomew bit his lip and studied his son's face, watching the green eyes darting back and forth from the bandages to his own hands. Bartholomew shook his head and straightened himself up, nodding. "For now...for now. But only because it stopped bleeding, do you understand?"

Hope nodded, but the smile returned to his face and Bartholomew felt his chest swell at the sight of it. Bartholomew pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at Lightning, bowing his head before gesturing toward the small kitchen. "We can talk in there. Hope, I want you to go to our room and rest. I want to make sure that the cut doesn't do anymore damage. Besides, I think you've had enough excitement for one day."

Hope opened his mouth to protest but Lightning grasped his shoulder and squeezed, drawing Hope's gaze to her. Her face was blank to him though. Except for her eyes. They were soft as she locked eyes with him and she nodded, squeezing his shoulder again.

Hope's chest tightened and he nodded, swallowing before turning around and trudging out of the room. He threw glances toward his father and Lightning until he turned the corner, and even then he paused before entering the room. His hand rested on the frame of the wooden door and he glanced down the hall, wondering if he would be able to hear them if he left it open. But then the soft sounds of their footsteps faded and he shook his head, grumbling under his breath.

"Figures." Hope sighed and stepped into the room, shutting the door with his back before slowly heading for the bed. He flopped across the mattress, not even bothering to lift his head. He just breathed the old mattress in. The smell of old, dead grass and must filled his nose, on his father's side of the bed, and he wondered what his dad was doing when he wasn't at home. Where was he when he wasn't trying to keep Hope locked away from the world.

_Is he thinking of mom? Is he thinking of how hard it is without her-wondering what it would be like if she was still around? _

_Does he think of me too? _

_Does he think of me when he thinks of mom? _

_Who cares though? I mean, I am her son, just like I'm his, so it's natural. He_ _doesn't even-I mean, why should it bother me-_

_Forget it..._

Hope shook his head and groaned, curling in on himself and letting out a heavy breath. His skull, particularly around the temples, throbbed and pounded. His nose was starting to stuff up and his head felt heavy and hot. Lifting it up was no longer an option, and honestly, he didn't want to. His eyes slid closed and his mind-fogged and sluggish-slowed to a stop.


	4. Unwanted

**An update? Is such a thing possible? Could this truly be so?**

**Yup. Finals are done, semester is done, and by resiting the instinctive urge to Skyrim, I edited this chapter up. I want to get back into the story, because the last chapter I wrote (I've written ahead by about four chapters) was really fun to write near the end. And I want to follow it up with more awesome and stuff. Or something. **

**So yeah, new chapter! Thanks to you who fav, alert, and especially review (oh so subtle). Enjoy! I'll try to update sooner next time! **

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><p>"I should thank you...for saving my son." Lightning blinked, leaning against the counter as Bartholomew pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders sagging. He looked up at her, giving her a weary smile, but there was no humor behind it. He looked away from her, eyes fixed on the peeling wall.<p>

"It seems you are always doing that. Saving my son-what's left of my family. I owe you a lot, Miss Farron. More than I could ever truly repay you."

Lightning looked down at her boots, her cheeks warming. She shook her head. "It was nothing, Mr. Estheim. Trust me. I may have saved Hope, but for every time I've saved him I can think of two more times he's saved me. He's strong...he's got a good head on his shoulders."

Bartholomew's smile widened and a spark flickered in his eyes. Lightning's chest warmed at the sight of it, and she straightened herself out.

"He is strong, isn't he?" Bartholomew continued before she could say anything, his tone lost and wistful. "Thinking back, it's thanks to Nora that he's like that. She really did wind up raising him, far more than I did. It's why I'm so lost now. But Hope is strong and smart and patient with me as I tries to figure out what to do."

Bartholomew shook his head, running a hand through the bristles of his hair. "But he can be reckless too. Like today, going out on his own. If you hadn't found him-I don't even know. But it wouldn't have turned out well, I know that much. So thank you."

Lightning nodded, looking back at the counter and trying to think of what to say. _How do I approach this? I mean, who am I to tell this man how to raise his son when I couldn't even-_

_No. _

_I know Hope needs my help. He needs me to talk to his dad... Besides, I might be able to help this time. _

Lightning swallowed the growing lump in her throat and focused her eyes on Bartholomew, squaring her shoulders. "He's like this because he doesn't get out, Mr. Estheim." Lightning's eyes flickered when Bartholomew's face tightened, but she plowed on, "It's not because he doesn't know it's dangerous-but he needs to be able to get out sometimes. Otherwise...all this energy gets pent up and he starts to think of things he shouldn't. Like, getting out when he knows it's dangerous, or without someone that can protect him."

Lightning shook her head. _This isn't coming out right. Come on.-there's something I can relate this to-_

"It's like when I had to look after Serah. I used to be so overprotective of her-" _Still am..._ "And because of that, I wouldn't let her do certain things. So she would go and hang out with people I didn't like, or hang out with NORA, or bartend-things like that. And I would get mad at her and try to stop her-and then she'd just do it more." Lightning felt her face heat up and she wondered if anything was even making sense.

"What I'm saying is-if I hadn't fought it so much, or if I had been more accepting, it would have been better for the both of us. I know that, and Serah knows that, but we were too stubborn to admit it to one another. Then...everything sort of blew up." _That's an understatement._

She stopped, her mouth dry, but Bartholomew nodded. He slowly crossed his arms, his eyes soft. "You really care for him, don't you?" Lightning blinked but said nothing, but Bartholomew nodded. "Thank you, Lightning... Both of us-both of us just want what's best for him. I've been trying hard, but I know that not everything I do is helpful to him. You may have a point." Bartholomew grimaced though, shaking his head.

"But what am I supposed to do? Everywhere I look-everywhere there are enemies. I don't know who I can trust, Miss Farron-who will look after my boy and who will try to hurt him? Kill him? I cannot fathom losing him as well. I shudder at the very thought." Bartholomew closed his eyes and Lightning bit her lip, watching him.

"I am trying to save him-but how? I never expected this to happen. I didn't think that the whole world would become my enemy. It seems like I'm fighting a losing battle at times-that I cannot save my son no matter what I do. I feel...backed into a corner and I-" Bartholomew sucked in his breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be dumping this on you, Miss Farron. You've done enough, in saving my son. Forgive me."

Lightning shook her head, her eyes hardening. "You said so yourself-we're both trying to what we can for Hope." She sighed before taking a deep breath. "In fact...I think there may be something we can do." Lightning nodded when Bartholomew's eyes snapped to her, wide and pleading. "You worked for the Sanctum, right? Before all of this happened. What did you do?"

Bartholomew blinked, leaning back at the questions before his answer fell from his lips. "I-I was a designer-an architect. I would design the new buildings-both for the official office buildings of Palumpolum and for personal homes. I'd get a contract from Eden every now and again-"

"Stop," Lightning muttered, nodding her head when his mouth snapped shut. She narrowed her eyes at the floor, nodding slightly to herself. "That's good actually...that's really good."

"But Miss Lightning-"

"Just Lightning." She ignored his slight jump, plowing ahead. "As an architect, you'd be more than helpful in the rebuilding efforts. Making sturdier shelters and buildings out of the raw materials from Pulse, and then of course anything for long term settlements. There could be more you could do, I'm just thinking off the top of my head."

Bartholomew's eyes were wide and he shook his head. "I didn't-but wouldn't I be working for-"

Lightning resisted the urge to groan. Now that she had thought of something that could help Hope, she was more than willing to run with it. Her mind raced and she had to resist the urge to pace. "It's all right, Mr. Estheim. Right now, the military is handling the evacuation of Cocoon and the placement of the citizens. And _that_ is being run by the remnants of the Guardian Corps, with corporation from PSI-COM. The government, at least for now, has been dissolved."

Bartholomew shook his head and leaned against the counter for support, running a hand over his face. "I don't know how much better that makes me feel...but I'll wait on that. I understand the use of such position, and what it could do for me." Bartholomew's mind flashed to his supply card, the purple line stark in his mind. "But what else? You seem so eager..."

"Because of the value of your work, we would be able to offer both you and Hope more protection. You would receive a shelter closer to the soldiers' posts and Hope would be able to get out during the day with an escort. At least, that's what I think will happen. Then-"

"He'd be able to go out without that constant threat..." Bartholomew swallowed, the mob of people and their shouts echoing in his mind, but he pushed them away. _Some protection is better than no protection. _

"Exactly," Lightning said, the corner of her lips tugging up. "Not only that, but I think Hope would be able to be enrolled in a temporary educational program, before any of the schools are erected." Both of their minds were racing now, the possibilities piling up on one another, each vying for attention.

"That's-that's great!" Bartholomew shook his head, his eyes still wide with disbelief. He slowly turned to Lightning, and her chest tightened at the dark, yet shimmering look in his eye. She felt her throat close up and she took a step back, eyes heading for the floor. Bartholomew smiled at the action, bending over and trying to catch Lightning's eye again. He gave her a small, hesitant smile, eyes flickering to the floor before going back to her eyes.

"Miss Farron-Miss Lightning-_Lightning_." Bartholomew blew out a sigh, a shaky laugh following it before he straightened up. "You have done so much for my boy and myself. So much for the Estheim family and I have...no idea how to thank you. This opportunity-it's so much more than I expected..."

"It's nothing, Mr. Estheim."

"Bartholomew."

Lightning shut her eyes and nodded, swallowing that growing lump in her throat before looking him in the eye again. "Bartholomew, it really isn't a problem. I would-I will, do what I can for Hope. And I will do what I can for you, as well. It's the least I can do-"

"You owe us nothing."

Lightning shook her head, a smile making its way to her face. "I owe Hope a lot, Bartholomew. And I want to protect him...he's precious and-" Lightning looked away again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I should go and speak to my superior. The sooner I ask him about it, the sooner we'll have our answer."

She met Bartholomew's eyes again, nodding her head. Bartholomew smiled and gestured his arm to the kitchen doorway, leading her out of the room and toward the door. They both paused when they reached it, Lightning glancing back at Bartholomew.

"Tell Hope I said goodbye...and that I'll be looking out for him," Lightning mumbled, hating how her cheeks warmed. She pushed the door open, her eyes fluttering when the breeze hit her face. Bartholomew squinted, stepping a little farther back into the room. He nodded, but cleared his throat when he remembered how dark the main room was.

"Of course Miss-um, Lightning. And again, thank you for everything you've done for us."

"It's no problem. I'll let you know as soon as I can how this goes." Lightning gave Bartholomew one last look before turning around and stepping out, closing the door behind her.

Bartholomew stood staring at the door, even once Lightning had closed it. The darkness of the room was pressing down on his eyes, making them burn, and he slowly lifted his hand and rubbed away the sting. Eventually he turned, eyes popping open at the light pouring from the kitchen, but he turned to look down the small hall instead. His eyes found the shadow of the door to the room he'd share with Hope. With one last glance at the kitchen light and a small shrug, he headed for the door. He followed the hall by pressing his hand against the wall, then the door, until he felt the cool metal of the knob.

"Hope," he whispered, slowly inching the door open, "Hope, are you awake?" He closed his eyes and opened them again, his eyes burning as they adjusted to the new, deeper darkness of the room. As he toed his way inside his legs bumping into the bed, he was able to make out Hope's body on the mattress. A smile flashed across Bartholomew's face as he made his way to the other side and crawled into bed with his son, doing his best not to disturb the covers. He shook his head as he brought the blankets both over him and Hope, his chest warming when Hope sighed and cuddled closer to the pillow.

"It's almost like your small again," Bartholomew murmured. "And you had a nightmare, so you came to our room and asked to sleep with us. Just in case the monsters decide to come and eat your mom and I, of course." Bartholomew's eyes misted and he turned over in the bed, staring at the ceiling and clasping his hands on his chest.

"But I guess you've faced far worse monsters than that now, haven't you?" Bartholomew closed his eyes and breathed slowly out his nose, letting his tense body relax into the bed. "But tomorrow-tomorrow I'll tell you something that will make both of us happy."

* * *

><p>Hope watched as the movers unloaded his and his father's small amount of belongings into the new shelter, and briefly wondered how many times he'd have to move this year. He looked away from the two burly men as they placed another box into the house, and glanced at his father.<p>

Bartholomew watched the men with a hard stare, his eyes flickering at every slip one of the men made, or whenever they had to stop and reposition something. Shaking his head, Hope looked around as well, quickly noting that this shelter was a lot closer to the airships. And the soldiers.

He had already seen several uniformed soldiers pass by as they started to unpack. Both of the men had glanced his way and even nodded at him before continuing their conversation, and Hope shifted in place, looking back at his father.

_Is that why you brought us here? Because of the soldiers? This can't be all you talked about with Lightning-I mean, you made it sound so much more exciting than that. _

"Something wrong?" Hope jumped at his father's voice, shaking his head and stepping back.

"N-no, just thinking about some stuff." Bartholomew narrowed his eyes and Hope looked away, feeling the back of his neck heat up. He bit his lip, eyes searching the ground until he found his voice. "So-I know you're excited about moving closer to these guys and everything-but you said there was more to this surprise too." Hope's shoulders dropped when his father smiled and he clenched his hands, waiting to hear an answer.

"Well-yes, there is actually. I wanted to wait to make sure it was happening of course-but Miss Fa-Lightning, was able to get back to me."

Hope's chest swelled and he had to bite back a smile.

_Lightning, you have just solidified yourself as my hero._

"You see, Lightning was able to talk to her superior about enrolling you into a temporary, military sanctioned, educational program. She contacted me yesterday and said her superior was able to give her the green light. So long as I work with the military in designing some new buildings for the shelters, you'll be enrolled."

Hope blinked, tilting his head to the side, and Bartholomew bit his lip, glancing around. "It-it will give us both something to do, you see. You'll be able to get an education, even with all this construction and rebuilding going on, and I'll be able to help rebuild our home."

Hope closed his eyes, holding back the sigh that was fighting to escape him. _School is not what I had in __mind. Why can't I be doing something like you? Something that will actually help us rebuild this place, instead of being stuck in a 'class' and trying to-to-I don't know._

Hope shook his head and opened his eyes though, trying to harden his eyes so they wouldn't show the disappointment. _I need to try at least. He's trying, isn't he? And that's something. _

"I am excited, dad. It's just-" Hope paused, rolling his eyes and blowing out a sigh. "How excited can one kid get about school? Seriously? It's like getting excited about the dentist." Hope smiled when he saw Bartholomew's eyes light up before wiping it from his face and pulling his lower lip into a pout.

"Sending me off to school-I'll have to get Lightning back for that one. I knew you two were plotting against me-" Hope stopped when a hand came down in his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He looked up at his father, blinking at the serene smile on his face and distant look in his eye.

"Complain all you like Hope, you're going. I think it'll be a good experience for you. It'll give you a chance to interact, socialize, and just get back into things again. Be normal for a while." Hope nodded, his eyes flicking back to the movers as they unloaded the last box, but he fisted his hands.

_Normal huh? _

_...not likely._

"We'll be able to drop by the compound later on. Hopefully, we'll be able to meet the other students that will be taking the classes with you. I don't know how many people there will be but..." Bartholomew trailed off and Hope shrugged, his chest hollow and his back hot. _I really don't want there to be a lot of people. More people, more questions, more stares. Who wants that?_

_Who ever wants that?_

"Or we could go now, if you like?" Bartholomew continued, breaking Hope from his thoughts. Bartholomew smiled at Hope, twirling his keys in his hands. The movers glanced at them before shaking their heads and walking to the airships down the open field, and Hope followed them for a second. "Your choice Hope-unpack or sight see, work or school."

"Fine, school," Hope muttered, ignoring his father's grin as he turned to lock the door.

"That's what I like to hear. It'll be starting in a few days, so it'll be good to figure out where you'll be going, what you'll need and everything. And who knows, maybe you'll like the people there. That would be nice right, to make some new friends?" Hope nodded absently, following his father as he started to lead them away from the houses and down to the field where the soldiers had gone. Hope could hear Bartholomew's voice still going in the background, but soon it was nothing more than a buzz as he looked toward the ships that were nestled in the grass.

_It seems so intimidating up close but...is it enough? _Hope's gaze drifted to the soldiers gathered around the entrances of the ships, some polishing their guns as they chatted with fellow soldiers, others sitting lazily against the airships, glancing around or up at the sky. Weapons were everywhere; guns in and around crates, in soldiers' hands, set up on hastily made, wooden racks, and even some laying the grass. The airships were bound to be equipped with some weapons as well, and at first thought, it did seem intimidating.

But then Hope would remember the way the earth shook whenever a Behemoth entered the fray. Back when he traveled with the others; when he had power of his own. The snarling mouth as saliva as big as puddles dripped from it before it bellowed a roar that left his ears thrumming. And when it stood, towering over him, large enough to block out the sun and its sword clasped in its claws, his heart would tighten and his mind would blank out.

And he had been a l'Cie then. He had been able to handle it. Now, there was only his body and that was nothing much considering he was slender and short. He had relied on his magic more than his muscles and now it seemed like a mistake. He hadn't truly given himself proper training-he wasn't that much stronger physically, other than running a bit faster. Worse, behemoths were only one kind of monster to be faced in the wilds of Gran Pulse. Huddling near a crystal orb, only gradually stretching out into Pulse, still left the shelters in a horrible position.

_All it would take is one behemoth-maybe of few of those dog things, and we'd be screwed. Before the Fal'Cie would protect us, but now we're on our own. Really on our own. Can we really handle that?Before-before maybe when I had my powers I might have been able to help, but now? Now I'd be shuffled away into the back, waiting to be rescued or eaten alive. What good is that? What good is hiding-what good is being this weak again? _

"Hope!" Hope was jerked forward by a hand and his head snapped up, cracking as he met his father's eyes. He swallowed at the way Bartholomew stared at him, worry darkening his eyes and his grip on Hope's shoulder tightening. "What's wrong? I was talking to you but you were-gone. You almost walked into the ship." Hope shook his head, eyes snapping to the entrance of one of the airships, the ramp at his feet. His cheeks warmed and he looked toward the ground, shrugging.

"I was just thinking, dad. Kind of got lost in my thoughts." Hope didn't look up from the ground, closing his eyes and waiting for the hand on his shoulder to finally leave. He counted his breaths-_one, two, three, four, five, six_-until the pressure left his shoulder. Hope slowly lifted his head, relaxing when he only saw his father's back as he led them into the ship. Hope trotted behind him, his eyes glancing around as they entered.

The interior seemed rather plain compared to some of the other ships Hope had seen before, and dim to boot. Where other ships were thin and packed with panels and flashing buttons, this one was wide and spacious. A few spare crates were huddled into the corner and the cockpit was easy enough to see, with no wall to shield it from view. There were only two seats near the front, as well as a panel, but it had been stripped of any buttons or switches, leaving only a few wires in their place. There was another door just a few feet along the wall beside the chairs, but Hope was steered away from it when an arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him away.

"Hope, this here is Mr. Menti-"

"Ronen would be fine if you don't mind, Mr. Estheim. I think it'll make it easier for all three of them if we got started on a first name basis." Hope narrowed his eyes at the man before him, looking him up and down. He was slender, his arms in particular small and narrow, and he wore a white and black armor uniform. His face was long and his eyes a dark brown, while his thin and graying hair was tied back into a small ponytail. Ronen looked down at Hope and smiled, showing no teeth, and held put his hand.

"Hello there, Hope. I'd like to welcome you to our small little class. And, as I said, feel free to call me Ronen." His voice was airy too, but Hope slowly nodded and shook the man's hand, squeezing lightly before letting go. Ronen nodded at him once more, looking back at Hope's father. "But I'm sure you're here to meet the other two children as well-and ask as many questions as you can about what exactly I'll be teaching them."

"Yes, if you don't mind." Bartholomew pressed his hand into Hope's back and pushed him toward the door, following Ronen as he turned and led the way.

"Can't say I blame you. To tell the truth, I was surprised to have gotten the position at all." Hope blinked when he realized that Ronen's steps were slightly off, as if the man were swaying, and he looked down to see that his right foot was just a stump. Hope swallowed, eyes snapping away and his mind buzzing. _Does he know I looked? Did I look too long? Crap, does dad think I looked too long?_

Ronen stopped at the door and pushed it open. Both Bartholomew and Hope tried to peer inside. The room was flooded with light, far more than the dark and bare room they were in, and Ronen glanced back at them.

"Anyway, to break it down, we'll be covering some more basic, hands on topics for now. Mostly to do with our current machinery and how it works, as well as what components are used with it. With our resources as limited as they are, we can only show them bits of what we have to work with."

"That's all right. It'll be useful for Hope to understand these things." Bartholomew looked at Hope and smiled, and Hope managed a small one back before stepping around the two adults and into the room.

He noticed the three desks first, all sitting in the middle of the room, and he shuddered as he was reminded that he was still going to school again. The light that was filling the room was from a lamp wired to the ceiling and just as Hope started to look up, his eyes already burning from the rays, pain flared into his right shoulder. He yelped, eyes snapping down to meet bright gray eyes and dark red hair.

"So _you're_ the latest one," she said, her eyes traveling up and down. Hope's cheeks reddened and he looked away, only to look back at her as she continued to inspect him. Her short red hair was almost falling in front of her face and she brought a hand to her hip, raising an eyebrow at him and smirking. "Not sure what I think of you yet. But I guess you're cute enough."

"Cute-" Hope stopped when she ruffled his hair, digging her fingers into the scalp before thrusting his head down.

"Yup, a kid. But you look really familiar." Her voice was rough and sharp, and Hope gritted his teeth.

"Don't touch-"

"Of course he looks familiar. Or do you not remember why we're here in the first place?" This voice was calmer, smoother, compared to the girl's, but the words caused a chill in Hope's chest, followed by a strange emptiness. Hope looked up at the source of the voice, his shoulders tensing when he realized the adults had stopped talking and were watching them very closely now.

The boy was a few inches taller than him, and had already made his way up to Hope, staring down at him. His eyes were a plain brown and his hair a spiked black. He had a narrow jaw and average build, but the empty way he looked at Hope made him shiver. Hope clenched his hands and stared back, tightening his jaw and waiting for the kid to strike or for his own father to step in. The girl was looking between the two of them, her eyes dancing back and forth, a smile twitching on her face. Hope's chest swelled and he almost stepped back-

"The name is Ezra." And like that, the boy's whole demeanor changed. The boy held out his hand, a small smile making its way to his face and his eyes resting, as if the stare-down had sucked the energy out of him. His hand hung in the air and Hope leaned back, narrowing his eyes.

"What are you-"

"I'm trying to shake your hand. What, you think I'm gonna jump you?" Ezra's smile widened and he shrugged, shifting his feet. "You're only part of the story-I know that much about it. It comes with being the child of a soldier."

Hope swallowed, still eying Ezra, but he slowly clasped Ezra's hand and shook once before they both let their arms fall to their sides.

The girl's shoulders slumped for a second, but she shook her head and straightened up, holding her hand out to Hope as well. "And mine is June. Like it or not, you'll be getting used to us. We'll be spending a lot of time together." June didn't wait for Hope's answer, simply grabbing his arm and shaking it several times before throwing it back at him. Her hand was back on her hip and she tilted her head at Ronen, giving him a dead stare.

"So how long are you going to babysit us, Ronen? We promise we won't bite his little head off. At least, not with his dad here." Hope blinked, stepping away from June and giving a pleading look to his father. But Bartholomew had a smile on his face, even though he tried to hide it with his hand. Hope rolled his eyes and waved his hand.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'm big enough," he muttered.

Ronen shook his head and grasped Bartholomew's shoulder. "Sorry for those two. They wouldn't know manners if it hit them like a behemoth. That's...the price you pay for living with the people they do." Ronen trailed off, staring off into the distance.

"I'll be telling auntie you said that," June called after them, watching as they went back to the other room, the door shutting with a sound thud behind them.

Hope's eyes lingered on the door after it closed, a sigh bubbling in his chest, but he held it in. He turned to look back at the other two, but hands were slamming into his shoulder before he could open his mouth.

"So, what was it like?"

"What?" He stared into those same gray eyes, the red hair still falling in front of her face, but there was a excitement in June's voice that Hope didn't like. He glanced at Ezra behind him, but the boy was shaking his head and rolling his eyes, muttering something that Hope couldn't catch. The fingers against his shoulders squeezed and he snapped his attention back to June, eyes roving her face.

"I asked you what it was like! You know, to be a l'Cie? What else would I be talking about?" Her hands clenched his shoulders and he winced, but then she threw her hands back down and turned away from him.

"I mean, I asked my aunt about it, but she would always be really vague. Before you and that crew you hung out with, there really weren't any documented cases of l'Cie. At least none that actually lived on Cocoon. You all wound up dead or hidden away by the higher ups of the military, so it was impossible for anyone to ever know." June sighed, her voice airy.

Hope gritted his teeth, fisting his hands. "I'm sorry, but considering I've known you for all of...five minutes? Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna tell you anything." He turned away, his face feeling hot and his heart beating like mad.

"Oh...got a sensitive one here. You won't last long like that, I can tell you that much. Sure, we're here to learn and all of that crap, but do you really think that's all we'll be doing? I'm sure there will be some physical exercise and all that icky stuff that I doubt you-" June stopped, her eyes popping when Hope stepped in front of her, his teeth bared and eyes flashing.

"I have a feeling I know more about that than you do. I _do_ know that this is more than just learning, and I _have _had my fair share of training, so before you go assuming anything-"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do, if you're not willing to tell us what happened?" June stepped away from Hope, only to slither in behind him, her smile widening. "I mean, that's what's really on everyone's minds you know. They want to know what happened. They want to know why they have to live on this godforsaken planet when their old lives on Cocoon had seemed just fine. Even if that's not that case, the public sure as hell doesn't know about it." June's voice got lower and lower, but the words were screaming in Hope's ears. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes, the way her eyes danced on him and her barely there smile.

And inside, where his stomach clenched and clenched, he realized she was right. The public didn't know. And as long as they didn't know the details of what happened-of why he and the others had to do what they did, there was no way to escape the mutterings or the cursing. The danger of being a former l'Cie hung over his head, breathing down his neck like a bloodthirsty behemoth, waiting to finally sink its claws into his neck.

"But-but they have to-"

"Have to what?" June finally stepped away from him, raising her arms in the air and grinning at him. "Have to just accept what's happened to them? People who are being shoved into dingy shelters, when just a while ago they were living in luxury, aren't going to just accept it. They're going to look for a scapegoat. And unfortunately for you, you're the best candidate."

"June." They both jumped at the sharp tone, eyes snapping back to Ezra. His eyes were hard, boring in June even as he shook his head. "Quit trying to scare him. The last thing we need here is conflict. We'll be working together in this class, I'm sure. So don't go picking fights."

June narrowed her eyes and sneered, shifting her attention to the opposite wall. Ezra didn't seem to care, looking back at Hope and nodding at him. "I'm sorry about her. She's a little too...pushy, when it comes to new people. Especially someone like-I mean, with circumstances like yours."

Hope nodded, trying to keep his eyes from the floor, but looking down anyway. He watched Ezra's boots, swallowing as he walked up to him. "I want to know myself-what happened to you, or at least what being a l'Cie really felt like. But we'll _both_ wait. And we'll tell you about ourselves as well."

Hope nodded again, biting his lip and forcing his head back up. _Come on, we're almost the same age, aren't we? Quit acting like a little schoolkid or something. _Hope's eyes met Ezra's and his chest loosened at the other's smile. Ezra tilted his head at June, smirking. "Take her for example. Her aunt's in the military, but June doesn't have any idea what she really does. It's either that secret, or that bad of a job."

June tensed at this, glaring at Ezra and chest swelling. "Oh, whatever! At least she does something. His dad is nothing but some administrative guy, doing a bunch of paperwork!"

"Much safer-and less degrading-than some of the work your aunt is bound to be doing." Ezra's smirk spread across his face and Hope was finding it hard to keep a grin of his own down, a chuckle escaping him when June's face turned red. Her eyes went to him and she growled.

"Oh, don't you go laughing at me! Just you wait, I'll be on you so fast your head will pop off!" June started toward him but all three froze when the door opened. They glancing at Ronen and Bartholomew as they walked in. Ronen crossed his arms, shaking his head at them while Bartholomew walked up to Hope and put his hand on his back, smiling at him.

"I leave you two alone with him for a few minutes and you're already at each others throats. Way to leave an impression." Ronen shook his head again, reaching to shake Bartholomew's hands as he passed by, his hand still on Hope's back as they headed for the door. "Sorry for those two. I'll be sure to keep them in line."

Bartholomew took Ronen's hand, the smile never leaving his face. Hope felt his father's hands almost shaking as it pressed against his back, and had to fight another smile. "Don't be sorry for them," Bartholomew said, squeezing Hope's shoulder. "They might just manage to liven my son up a bit."

Hope growled, rolling his eyes. "I'm plenty lively. I thought you didn't want an unruly teenager?"

"Didn't want a sullen one either." Bartholomew said playfully, ruffling his hair. He turned back to Ronen, nodding once more. "Thank you for having us here today. I'm sure this will be good for Hope. Thank you." Bartholomew turned back to the other two, nodding at them as well. "And I hope you'll like my son. He needs some friends, if you catch my drift."

Hope's jaw dropped, his eyes widening in horror. "Dad! Don't say that! I don't need you to make friends for me! I can do that!"

"Don't worry, Mr. Estheim, we'll be good friends with Hope. Promise!" Hope groaned, shutting his eyes at June's voice, his cheeks warming.

"Great. Great. Let's just go, dad."

"Whatever you say, Hope." Hope shook his head and buried his face in his hand, letting his dad lead the way out. His eyes snapped back open when the second door opened and they were going down the ramp, a warm breeze coming and tickling his nose. Hope let out a silent sigh and let his shoulders slump, following his dad out onto the grass.

"So, what did you think of them, Hope?" Bartholomew said after a while, his voice low. There was something else in his voice that Hope wasn't sure of, but he shrugged it off, glancing at the sky when he answered.

"They were...different, that's for sure."

* * *

><p>"I don't know what to make of this," Amodar muttered, his eyes on Lightning. "I mean, if it works, then we really could rebuild this place. But is it safe? Is it even possible?" His eyes darkened and he grabbed Lightning's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "I know it's your friends up there Farron. I know this-well, it's hard after."<p>

Lightning said nothing and her face revealed none of her emotions. Her lips were drawn into a tight line and the brief flash in her eyes had been the only hint of emotion for Amodar. The man shook his head, glancing up at the night sky as they stood outside one of the airships. Only they and the patrols were outside now. It was well into the morning and the sun was bound to rise in a few hours. In the distance, even a few birds could be heard chirping.

"Lightning, I know you don't like it-"

"It's not about what I like, is it sir?" Lightning's voice was flat and Amodar wanted to wince at the sound. Instead, he straightened himself and nodded, his voice hardening.

"No. No, it really isn't."

"Then why are we even discussing it? Especially now, so early? I have things to do-my sister and her fiancee are supposed to be coming here in a week or so. They're trying to follow-_force_ me to be a part of this wedding they're having and-" Lightning stopped, unable to muster the kind of venom she needed.

_Probably because it's not there..._ A small voice, oddly like Serah's, whispered in her head.

Lightning's shoulders slumped and she brought a hand to her forehead, holding back the sigh that was fighting to escape her. "Besides, it's like you said. If this does manage to work, we'll be able to rebuild more quickly. Things will start to progress. We'll be able to do more for the civilians and our own soldiers. All if this-"

"If this works," Amodar finished for her. He turned toward the horizon, eyes watching nothing but the blackness of the night. The air was cool on his arms and he welcomed it, hoping it would keep him cool as well. "If it works..." he repeated. "But, drilling? Have we ever tried something like this before?"

Unbidden, an image of a crystallized Serah flashed in Lightning's mind and she tensed, gritting her teeth. Breathing slowly, and silently thanking the darkness, she spoke, "On a smaller scale we have. When my sister...sister was crystallized, they had to pry her away from the snow and rock of Lake Bresha. It's not exactly the same, but I'm assuming it's the basic idea."

"But this is on a much bigger scale-and I don't know if drilling through crystal, and drilling through ice and rock, are the same thing."

Lightning shrugged, her head starting to pound. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see then, won't we?"

Amodar nodded, his throat feeling oddly dry as he continued to watch the night with Lightning. It was silent between them for a while, Lightning tense, her arms crossed and her head tilted slightly down. Amodar worked his jaw after a while, taking a deep breath.

"We'll help your sister and her fiancee settle in," he tried.

"I know you will."

Amodar's shoulders sagged, but he tried again. "And Hope Estheim. We'll protect him."

"I know that. And I'll be protecting him too." Her voice was sharp and Amodar opened his mouth to speak again, but Lightning beat him to it. "I know what you're trying to do sir. And I appreciate it. But this..." Lightning trailed off, shaking her head and letting her arms fall to her sides. Her voice was soft. Sad.

"I just don't know."

The last thing Amodar heard was the soft tapping of her footsteps as she walked into the airship.


End file.
